


show me the light

by CookiesAndKatanas



Series: Fresh New Trash [3]
Category: The Yogscast
Genre: Blood, Body Horror, Dysphoria, M/M, Multi, Panic Attacks
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-09-16
Updated: 2016-12-14
Packaged: 2018-04-21 02:26:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,178
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4811441
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CookiesAndKatanas/pseuds/CookiesAndKatanas
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Nonchronological scenes and snippets from my take on UMY</p><p>Chapters will be edited and added into main fics as it catches up, but will stay here unedited.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. partly settled in

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Will has a libido, he has _needs_ , he just wants to fuck his sort of maybe boyfriends. 
> 
> One problem: he doesn’t have a dick.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> cws for implied sexual content, heavy making out, light bondage, dysphoria, and pov character having a panic attack
> 
> those warnings for dysphoria and panic attacks are no joke please tread carefully

     It wasn’t a particularly outstanding night, when it happens.

     It never is.

     It was a couple months into his training, and only a couple weeks into the strange five-way relationship they had going. Ross and Will were lying on the couch, their cuddling had turned to lazy makeouts some time ago. Trott was in his office with paperwork from the businesses, Sips was in the bedroom with financial reports, and Smith had just finished whatever potion work he had to get done. They could hear as Smith talked to Sips, and after a while Sips must have shooed him off because he came out to the living room to pester them.

     Ross and Will pulled apart and shot each other smirks before looking up towards the approaching footfalls. Smith stopped when he walked in and caught sight of them, taking it in for a moment. Will was straddling Ross, who was laying across the couch, his back being pillowed up by a comforter and his head on the arm rest.

     Smith said, a moment later, “I don’t really know what I expected,” and Ross and Will started laughing while Smith shuffled into the kitchen. He opened the fridge and asked, “You guys want anything?”

     Will jumped up off Ross, and bent to lay a quick kiss to a horn as he walked around into the kitchen to peer into the fridge. They still hadn’t gone shopping, barring Smith bringing home cider from the shop when they ran out of soda and beer.

     There was still some diet coke, but none of them wanted to face Sips if he ran out before they bought more. Will sighed and reached past Smith to grab a water bottle, and was about to add soda to their shopping list when he was pushed against the counter.

     His water bottle was knocked over and he could feel Smith’s hips pressing into him, and he reflexively tried to go on tiptoes to close the height difference a bit, and made a small noise when his hipbones ground against the counter’s edge.

     Smith chuckled in ear, “Ross got you worked up, didn’t he?”

     Ross answered for him, just over Smith's shoulder, "You're welcome."

     Will tilted his head to the side, an invitation, "What are you going to do about it?"

     Smith immediately started kissing the side of his neck and Will sighed. Smith was so easy, all you had to do was challenge him and he'd do whatever you liked.

     Smith pulled away, and for a moment, Will worried that he'd somehow read his mind, but Smith only said, "Ross, get some cuffs."

     And christ if that didn't send a spike of heat through his stomach. He could already picture a few things without him even needing to move, handcuffs looped through the overhead cabinet handles, forcing him to stretch out and present his ass so nicely, or through the drawer handle currently digging into his thigh, him bent over and struggling to stay in position as Smith used him-

     "Will?"

     That was Ross, and when he turned, Ross was looking at him, looking for a confirmation that cuffs were okay, and Smith opened his mouth before Will could. "Who said the cuffs were going on him?"

     Ross scampered out of the room much faster at that.

     Smith mouthed at his neck, and said against his skin, " _Do_ you want to be cuffed?"

     "Uh-huh, yes, yes please," Will's voice was thin and high and it brought him down for a moment, reminded him of how bright the lights in the kitchen were, and the way he'd only ever taken off his shirt or pants in the bedroom when it was pitch black, which reminded him how out of the three times he'd taken off his binder with them, two of them he panicked and had to leave, how even on the third time they hadn't even touched him between his legs, like they were treating him like glass, although he'd wanted them to just get him off so _badly_ -

     Ross skid into the room on his socks, and Smith pulled away from Will's neck again (wait- rewind, what had happened while he was lost in his thoughts?)

     Smith turned him around by hooking a finger into a belt loop and pulling, and there was the desire again, flaring up at the easy way Smith took control, if he just was good and let Smith take care of him then he'd make sure he was okay, he knew it.

     Things moved fast. His hands went behind his back, and Ross stood close behind him, one hand on his waist, steadying him as he stretched up to kiss Smith, who bent down only enough so that Will could reach him on tiptoes. Ross' other hand held the chain between the soft velcro cuffs, keeping his hands still.

     Smith kissed him reckless and wild, and everything narrowed down, he knew this, this was easy. Will responded with just as much enthusiasm, pressing forward and deepening their kiss, until Ross abandoned the hand at his waist and wrapped it around his bicep instead, pulling him back against his chest.

     Smith followed him, but his lips only barely brushed Will's. "You'll take what I give you, understand?" Will just pulled forward again, kissing Smith for a split second before a hand on his neck pushed him back against Ross' shoulder. Smith snarled, "I said, understand?"

     Will met Smith's glare defiantly, and only started to relax when Smith's fingers on his neck started to tighten. Will sighed, and his eyes drifted shut, enjoying the sensation.

     The pressure on his neck lightened, and he opened his eyes, looking off to the side and glancing down, not meeting Smith's eyes.

     "Will." There was something under the stern expectancy now.

     Will nodded, glanced up at Smith's face, and whispered, "Yes, yes sir, I understand."

     "Will, look at me." The hand around his neck was now under his chin, tipping his head up from where it had started to tuck against his chest, and Will managed to drag his gaze up to meet Smith's.

     His instincts were telling him to look down, look away, _submit_. He couldn't help but feel like this was a trick.

     "Color?"

     Oh.

     "Green."

     "Good boy."

     Smith's hands were running through his hair, bringing him into a soft kiss that deepened quickly. It was a swirl of sensation, and letting it wash over him was so much easier than fighting.

     Smith pulled his hair, and he sighed and let his head tip back, he let Smith push down on his shoulder until his feet were flat on the ground, shivered at the way Smith leaned over him, imposing his presence and making it clear Will was _his_.

     There was a tightness at his wrists, the chain pulling tight as his arms strained against the cuffs, and it took more concentration than normal to will his muscles to relax. Smith bit his lower lip, dragging it out as he pulled away slightly and Will whimpered. When Smith pushed back against him, he stepped in closer, pressing their bodies together from knees to lips.

     Will ground his hips forward, and before he was fully conscious that he'd done it, his mind was awake and racing again. It was... he could feel the hard line of Smith's cock through two layers of jeans and boxers, but he couldn't feel his own, couldn't feel it, could only feel wetness in his boxers, could feel Smith pressing close against his bound chest, could feel the bump they made, he could feel the tightness of the skin across his knuckles as he clenched his fists, could feel his body tensing, he could feel his throat closing up around tears or a scream, he could feel his eyebrows furrowing as he tried to shake it off and continue kissing Smith, he could feel himself pulling back to pant against his lips, it was too much-

     He pulled back, rested his forehead on Smith's shoulder, he just needed a minute to collect himself, needed a second to relax from the way his face was screwed up in an effort to keep back tears, needed a moment to stop his harsh panting, needed-

     “Will?”

     He needed out.

     He pulled back from Smith, stepping back, "I'm sorry, I just-" Ross moved with him- "I need to-" His fingers scrabbled at the velcro, trying to get a grip, he tried to sidestep away, but Ross' hand that was holding the chain didn't pull away fast enough, and fear set in, so much at once it was like a wave of static across his mind, and he needed him _off_ , and he stumbled back, away from them, away from hands that reached for him- "I just-" He managed to get one cuff undone, he brought his hands in front of him to get the other one off, and they dropped from his shaking hands as he continued backing away, he was in the living room now, still watching them, pride or the leftover dregs of submission not letting him meet their eyes, keeping his gaze at their waists, and their chests- "I need to-" He was at the door now, and he stepped into his boots, stomping his heel down into them, panic not letting him take his eyes off them for more than a glance, his hand found his jacket on the coat rack and he grabbed it, opened the door, and was out like a shot, slamming the door behind him and dashing for the stairs.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the thing that finally convinced me to write garbage court au was so that i could have an outlet for my dysphoric feelings, especially surrounding sex. maybe its just the circles I'm in, but sex and dysphoria are never talked about in depth, and I desperately want to talk about my feelings surrounding it. 
> 
> note about main fic: next chapter is coming, but, its slowly turning into a monster, as well as being the first smut scene ive ever written, so its giving me a bit of trouble. its a death rave, so hopefully a new take on that will be nice for you all
> 
> find me on tumblr at [cookiesandkatanas](cookiesandkatanas.tumblr.com/)


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dysphoria always hits him when he least expects it. At least he’s good at dealing with it. Right?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> cws for dysphoria, panic attacks, fleeting mention of wet dreams and sexual response
> 
> theres a lot of bottom dysphoria here, and a pov character having a panic attack. please tread carefully

     Most days he expected it. He knew what he had in his pants and it was okay. It was the times that it caught him off guard that flipped the panic switch in his brain.

     Will had wet dreams a lot, he was a growing kid, it was to be expected. It was fifty-fifty if he'd have a dick or not in his dreams. He was good with waking up and immediately knowing where and who he was, so most mornings he woke up and the illusion was shattered pretty fast.

     Those were the days that he just felt like hiding away all day with the terrible hopelessness that gripped him. 

     Sometimes he'd wake up slow, and his mind wouldn't be sure if he was at the apartment or at Xephos' or at his parents' or what. He'd open his eyes and not recognize the wall in front of him, despite waking up to it so many times.

     It was those rare days that he'd wake up and not be sure of himself that he'd reach down to take care of his morning wood and find nothing. 

     The first time it had happened, he was still in high school, and he snatched his hand out of his pants as quick as he could and tried to keep his breathing steady and still. That carefully manufactured calm shattered when his mom called up the stairs with a name that wasn't  her \- his. A name that wasn't  _ his _ . 

     He panicked through more mornings than he'd care to admit, struggling into clothes and talking himself through his routine step by step until he calmed enough to face his reflection in the bathroom and make it look like he hadn't been crying. 

     At Xephos' it was just the same, except a change of boxers and the pressure of a binder was usually enough to calm him out of hysteria. He didn't have school to rush off to first thing, so he could afford to curl up into a ball and stew in his misery before wrestling it down and facing the day. 

     And of course it happened at the apartment too, but his usual method of dealing with it was thrown off. 

     The first time, it started like always. He woke up to the grind against the mattress that told him the erection he expected wasn't there. He paused to lock his throat before he sat up, keeping down his harsh breaths and tears until he could get away. He tried to get up as quick as possible without alerting anyone, and stumbled to the bathroom. 

     He curled up on the thick bath mat, each gasping breath as quiet as he could make it, breath held for long seconds between each inhale and exhale, in an attempt to stop himself from hyperventilating. He never could keep quiet once rattling breaths started forcing up through his panic locked throat, and he just had to stop that- god, but he could never put it off for long. 

     When he could feel the pressure building in his chest, and he was sure this was not a morning he could brush it off, he moved just enough to open the shower curtain, and turn on the water, letting the sound of water cover his shuddering gasps. 

     A while later, fifteen minutes at the very least, he slowly uncurled from the floor, quietly dictating his movements to himself as he did them. 'Stand, lift up your shirt, pull it over your head, set it down. Lift up your undershirt, pull it over your head, set it down. Ignore the wetness between your legs as you take off your boxers, it will be gone soon. Open the curtain, raise one foot, step in. Stand in the shower, turn, close curtain, duck head under spray, grab shampoo...'

     And so it went, until he was out of the shower and cursing his lack of foresight in his panicked haste to get away. 

     When he cracked open the door to call for someone to bring him his bag and a towel, he was surprised to see it all waiting for him just outside. He looked around again before grabbing it all and bringing it inside. His boxers were the first thing on, and after he struggled into his binder his shoulders finally relaxed. He got the rest of his clothes on, nice slacks and his favorite button up that was still casual enough to wear out and about. 

     He figured he should be heading home soon after he emerged, after waking them up early with his sudden departure from the bed and worrying them needlessly with his petty snivelling.  

     Will had no delusions about their vaguely defined relationship being anything more than for fun. The four of them moved like a single unit, always in sync, and something in Will ached to see it. He was a novelty, and he’d wear out. He was used to it in a matter-of-fact way, and there was no resentment attached to the thought. He was having fun with it, just like they were.

     So he’d just head on home, get out of their way. Easier to be alone in his attic room and work on improving his computer for the rest of the day than to navigate his way around Sips’ cheerful face, Trott’s shrewd looks, Ross’ open naivety, and Smith’s alluring smile. 

     He stepped out of the bathroom, could hear Sips goading a sleepy sounding Smith, and Ross’ laughter coming from the kitchen. He walked down the hall, expecting a wave and maybe a quick kiss if anyone was standing near him on his way out. 

     Instead he got an incredulous, “And where do you think  _ you’re _ going?”

     Will turned to the kitchen to face Sips as he slowed. “Ah, you know, things to do, Xephos will be worrying-” A hand grabbed his own, and he jumped, pulling his hand away as he turned around to see Trott sitting up on the couch, where he had probably been dozing.

     “Ross ‘s makin’ pancakes.”

     Will looked over to Ross, who was leaning against the counter as he looked back at him, spatula in one hand, and the quiet hiss of pancakes on the stove behind him.

     Smith, who was sleepily leaning on the kitchen peninsula, said “Yeah, at least stay for breakfast, it’s good stuff mate.”

     Will shifted uncomfortably under the weight of their combined gazes. “Ah, I’ll just go, I’ve got things to do-”

     “Things that aren’t us?” Smith asked with a sleepy smirk.

     Will flushed and his hand fisted around his bag’s strap. He opened his mouth, but he wasn’t quite sure how to respond, and Sips spoke before he could get his thoughts together. “Xephos won’t like to hear that his nephew’s being rude and turning down people’s hospitality.” He was nonchalant about it, adjusting his cap absently as he spoke. 

     Will hesitated, glancing between Trott and Smith’s tired but keen looks and Ross, his tail waving uncertainly behind him. Sips still had his innocent, easy going expression on, and Will would’ve thrown his bag down in a huff if it hadn’t had his good laptop in it.

     As it was, he set his bag down gently, and scowled at Ross’ grin as he walked to the fridge. “Well you don’t have to look so smug about it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> will this collection of nonchronological scenes ever be anything other than dysphoric venting? the next wip in my docs says yes, and itll be about as fluffy as gc can get
> 
> i started this months ago, and it was meant to be a bit longer, before i realized i was trying to push it past its natural endpoint. i realized that around thankgiving, and i wanted to put off posting something so heavy til after the holidays. so here it finally is.
> 
> hit me up on tumblr at [cookiesandkatanas](cookiesandkatanas.tumblr.com/)


	3. I'm Not Born To Die

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Will goes over to Parvis' for the first time, and Parvis shows Will a shiny new kind of magic

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this was started so long ago, like, last spring long ago. title is from the song that inspired it, Blood of Angels by Brown Bird.
> 
> warnings for blood and body horror, lmk if I missed anything

     Parv motioned him over, and Will turned away from the ancient looking books on the shelves and followed him through another door. 

     "This," Parvis said, motioning grandly, "is where the magic happens." 

     Will tentatively approached the ornate basin in the center of the room. It glowed softly, enough to light the room dimly. There was a dangerous aura it gave off, and alarm bells were ringing in his head, and every too-sharp too-dangerous grin Parvis ever gave him sprung to his mind. The smell and sight of what was in the basin clicked belatedly and he abruptly took a step back, looking at Parvis. 

     "Blood magic?" His voice was high and tight and he didn't spare it a thought except that it told Parvis he was unsettled.

     Parvis had the excited grin of a kid at show and tell as he nodded and bounced over to it, "Yeah, look, the runes on the floor there," He pointed at Will's feet and Will quickly stepped off, and Parv took the opportunity to tug him closer by his sleeve. "Cmon Will, it won't bite. Well, unless I tell it to.” He giggled. "So the runes, right, they transfer the magic in the blood to something more malleable, I’m not quite sure how-"

     "Parvis, what're those?" Will asked, looking past the basin to the floor to ceiling shelves of jars and vials on the back wall-wait, all the walls. 

     "Oh! That's all the special blood!" Parvis said, bounding over to the nearest shelf. He scanned the vials, fingers skimming over them, and picked one up. "Wanna see something cool?" Without waiting for an answer, he grabbed a small bowl from the very bottom shelf and stepped back up to the basin. 

     Will watched, transfixed, as he dipped the bowl in and it floated in the center, half submerged. Parv flicked open the- a cap? A cap instead of a waxed cork, finally someone sane- and let a few drops from the bottle fall into the bowl. He set it aside and looked up at Will, probably to make sure he was watching, and touched his fingertips to the contents of the bowl.

     Will's lips twisted and he felt his stomach turn. The- the blood was turning lighter in the bowl though, and Will leaned closer despite himself. When it was completely clear, Parv lifted the bowl up and thrust it toward him proudly. Will flinched back, wary of flying drops of blood. But no blood clung to the bottom of the bowl and upon closer inspection, the sloshing water was just that.

     Will managed to tear his eyes away to Parv's gleeful face and breathed, "You have to show me."

     Parv's grin faltered for a moment, and he pushed the bowl into Will's hands as he turned back to the wall. He mumbled as his hands hovered over the vials, "So much to show you, Strifey, so much to show you." He plucked one up and turned back to the basin. He snatched the bowl back, and before Will could even voice his concern, raised it to his lips and gulped down the water. "See? Perfectly normal water." Parv grinned at him and Will felt his stomach flip, not even sure if it was due completely to disgust. 

     Parv, as usual, was not deterred by his unwillingness to play along, and set up his bowl and vial of blood in the same way as before. When he touched his fingertips to the blood this time, the soft glow in the room started to brighten, and Will felt the room start to heat up. When he began to smell burning, it clicked for him what Parv was doing. Will couldn't move for a long moment, but Parv's hands were shaking and his jaw was clenched tight. He lunged towards him, a hand on his chest and shoulder, pushing him away from- from his fucking stupid goddamn showy bullshit!

     Parv fought him, his fingers sinking deeper into the bowl, but acquiesced after a few more moments, stumbling back and pulling his hands towards his chest, and- oh god  _ his fingers _ .

     Parvis shook, his whole body trembling, and he drew in a deep breath and screamed. 

     Will was frozen, his hands hovering uncertainly in front of him, eyes on his hands and the wet black-red ends of Parvis’ fingers, too close to the knuckle for his long fingers. The room stank of burning flesh, and he could think of nothing else 

     Parvis drew in another breath and screamed again, and Will could only watch in silent horror as the black tips lengthened out again and turned back to Parv's too pale white. Parv's next deep breath in ended in a shaky moan instead of another blood-curdling scream. 

     Parv straightened up, shaking out his fists and flexing his fingers, inspecting them with a satisfied smile.

     Will wasn't sure if he was going to pass out or puke first. 

     Parv looked up from his hands, grin back in place. "Woah there Strifey, you're shaking more than I was, you okay there?" 

     He reached out to hold Will’s shoulders, and Will tried to step back, only to stumble and fall on his ass, Parvis’ hands slowing his fall only slightly. 

     Will pulled Parvis’ hand off his shoulder, by the wrist, and carefully looked at it. “Parvis- oh Parvis, what… what the fuck did you  _ do _ ?” 

     Parvis sat down in front of him, still grinning in his disconcerting way. “It’s a simple regeneration spell, so I can do my magic, and keep doing it. It uses up some blood, but,” he shrugged one shoulder, “it’s worth it.” 

     The doorway as backlight and the red glow of the altar lighting up his face was eerie, and Will shivered, hearing him describe regenerating  _ fingers _ as if it were a simple pro/con situation. Will wondered, not for the first time, if Parvis was more unhinged than he’d previously thought. The bar just kept getting lower.

     Will slowly let his hands trace up Parvis’, holding his palm gingerly as Parvis rambled on about the spell. Even half listening, Will could tell it worked somewhat like a glamour, proactive protection that was always on, drawing from a power source. Reactive spells were the norm, just by virtue of the obscene amount of power that proactive spells took. He’d never heard of spells other than glamours and various shielding spells working like that, but then again, he was no spellsmith. 

     And the spell, even as unorthodox as it was, worked well, as far as Will could see. Parvis was still rambling, about the power transfer now, and Will took the opportunity to gently brush Parvis’ fingers. There was no other reaction than the automatic twitch, and even that was understated. Gradual nerve loss? Dexterity or strength loss? 

     Will reached down into the water in the pipes, and channeled the healing spells Trott taught him. As he sunk down into skin, muscle, nerves and then bones, he couldn’t feel anything amiss. He had to admit that it was a fantastic spell, regardless of any long term or gradual effects. Parvis had obviously done this before, and he still had fine motor skills.

     His stomach jumped. If he could get this to his court- but no, he had to distance himself. He was a contractor with them, basically. He owed them nothing more than what they asked. He made that more than clear.

     Will cut Parvis off again, who was now going on about the runes around the altar. He would go for hours if Will didn’t cut in. “So, how would I make this… blood orb?”

     Parvis’ expression had long gone focused, but he broke into a grin again. “Oh Strifey, I knew you’d love it.”

     Parvis’ hand clasped Will’s, and he pulled them together in a kiss.

     Will drew back, startled. Parvis followed him, but could only go so far, sitting cross-legged as he was. Parvis pouted.. 

     Will opened his mouth, about to protest, but he only thought of his court, and found he had no words. He pushed thoughts of them away, grabbed Parvis’ (regenerated!) hand, and pulled him close to kiss him properly. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so many hints in this. what happened between Will and the court? how did he meet Parvis in the first place? why is Parvis calling him Strife, when/why/how did he get that nickname? 
> 
> so this happens way far down the line, unlike the other chapters of this nonchrono collection. a lot of things are not immediately obvious for that reason. any questions/conjecture can be left in the comments, but I wont give away spoilers. I'd actually love to hear what people think happened between the last two nonchrono bits and this one.
> 
> the later arcs have a lot of drama and a lot more world building than Everything We Knew, so sometimes I revisit bits and pieces I've written to relight that inspiration. so much excitement.
> 
> you can find me on tumblr at [ cookiesandkatanas](cookiesandkatanas.tumblr.com)


End file.
